


Upper Body

by StrikeLikeACobraKai



Series: Working Up a Sweat [8]
Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Bisexual Characters, Blow Jobs, Bobby thirsty for more again, Kissing, M/M, No internalised biphobia in this series, POV Bobby, POV First Person, Polyamory, Relationship as foreplay?, Running as Foreplay, Sex, Showers, Smut and Feels, So much kissing, Some angst, THE OT3, The barrier has been breached, The wall has crumbled, Things are coming to a head, sweat kink, this is us
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29263374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrikeLikeACobraKai/pseuds/StrikeLikeACobraKai
Summary: c. 1987.Johnny and Bobby go running. Today they don’t end up at the park, but rather, back at Johnny’s.Things take an unexpected turn.(Inspired by every shirtless pic/gif from TKK, and in particular the shorts and lack of shirts at soccer tryouts)
Relationships: Bobby Brown/Johnny Lawrence, Dutch/Bobby Brown, Dutch/Johnny Lawrence, Johnny Lawrence/Dutch/Bobby Brown
Series: Working Up a Sweat [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018029
Comments: 58
Kudos: 23





	1. Stay Hydrated Pt. 3

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amymone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymone/gifts), [Widderkatze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Widderkatze/gifts), [jeanpls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeanpls/gifts).



> Hi everyone! Sorry for the delay here. Wanted to get this right <3333
> 
> If you’re a new reader, please head over to Part 1, and start there. If you read this one first, it’ll be like jumping into a book about fifty pages before the end :) And to my ongoing readers, make sure you’ve read Warm Up first, the last time the OT3 got together, when they went for a swim in Johnny’s pool. We need that context for this Part.
> 
> It’s great to hear from so many of you readers about this series :3 You’re making this experience so special for me, and I can’t ever thank you enough. Hope you can settle in and get comfy for the story I have to tell you in this Part.
> 
> This is a gift also to my guest reader Orlando, for your encouragement and generous support here and on tumblr. You’ve given me so much joy! Thank you. I hope you like this one.
> 
> We’ve got a small time skip here, since ‘Warm Up’, an unspecified number of weeks have passed, with the status quo being maintained. Chapter 1 & 2 are Bobby/Johnny. Chapter 2 will continue the scene in this chapter. Chapter 3 is OT3.
> 
> Part 9 of the series will be the last one, in 3 chapters also. I’ll tell you a bit more about that soon. Thanks everyone!

Things have gone on much the same for all of us, on the outside.

As long as I don’t treat Johnny like my boyfriend, it seems like I can get everything else I want, and it’s not a bad deal. It’s a _great_ deal.

I’ve seen Dutch again by myself, but only once. It was so fucking intense, I kinda blurted out that I needed us not to do that again for a while. I had to.

And the way Dutch _looked_ at me, right then, when I did.

I knew he totally got it. He knows why we need to put the brakes on. He kissed me again when I was leaving, and it was different to our other kisses.

It tasted like he was sorry. Both of us wishing for things to be different, but hoping this is just a pause, and not the end, if only we can get Johnny to come around somehow.

I’m doing my best not to let those feelings for Dutch grow, not to water them in any way, but it’s hard, because I still want to be with him, and when we’re all together, there’s not much I can do about it. Sometimes I see Johnny looking at us, and I wonder if he knows what’s happening to me. I spend so much time focussing on hiding from him how I feel about him, sometimes I forget to do it about Dutch, too.

There’s another thing I’ve been wondering, though, about Dutch.

I asked him: does it usually last this long with him and Johnny? Cos he gave me the impression they’ve stopped and started quite a few times before. Anyway, he wouldn’t answer me. Wouldn’t talk about it at all, and I figure that means, _no_ , right?

I remember him saying a while back, that he thought it usually ended when he started wanting more, and it got too much for Johnny, so Johnny would pull away. So why the fuck is it different for us this time? We’ve been going for months and months like this. Has Dutch given up asking for more, or has Johnny stopped minding?

Well, I already _know_ it’s not the second one.

I have a feeling it’s the first, but only because it might be that Dutch has been getting some of what he craves from Johnny from _me,_ instead. I think that’s why he wouldn’t talk about it. Because we know that makes it even more of a mess.

The whole thing is so _confusing_ , and yet if I had the option of whatever complicated thing we’re all doing, or _none_ of it, there’s literally no contest.

It’s my choice, and I can live with it. There’s just so much about being with them that I love, that I actually wonder if I could live without, if I’m honest with myself. And the rest of it, I just try to figure out when I need to, and hope I don’t screw up too badly.

Johnny’s been fierce with me again, and it was just as amazing as that other time. Well, almost, since he didn’t kiss me at the end, even though that was what played in my mind after he went home.

Today when we ran, I could tell Johnny’s feet weren’t taking us to our park at the end. Sometimes they don’t, now. Sometimes, they lead to his house, like they have done today. Sometimes he opens the front door and waits for me to go inside, his eyes following me past as I head in and right up to his bedroom.

Once we’re in there, Johnny is standing in front of me, hot, shining with sweat, intent. Like me.

The thick, dark blue curtains are open again this morning, the window too, allowing the breeze to find us, try to cool us, even though I know that with what we’re about to do, there’s not a lotta point.

Our shoes are off. Our feet bare. Johnny slides my tank up my body, and tugs it up my arms, eyes never leaving me. He throws it over the upholstered chair that sits in the corner of his room and puts his hands at my waist.

We haven’t even had a proper drink to refresh ourselves yet, but sometimes we just need each other too much to wait.

“Come to bed,” he says, walking me slowly over the carpet of his bedroom.

“What are you gonna do to me?” I ask, and bite my lip, because there really is nothing like having Johnny look at me that way while we’re about to have time together. He’s wearing nothing but my favorite shorts, and they hug his stomach, even his thighs after we’ve been running and his body is still hot and damp. It honestly hurts my eyes to look at him, and know that he’s for me.

A confident smile tugs his lips sideways and his eyes fall down my body, taking their time. The hands on my waist tighten, thumbs pressing in above where my hips are.

“Whatever I want to.”

It turns out what that is, is to take me down to his bed underneath him, and pull me out of my shorts once we’re lying down on his soft sheets. 

I’m in Johnny’s hand while his mouth comes down to my clavicle, and under there, and he licks across my skin: small movements, driving me insane in the best way with how slow and restrained they are. Like we have all day, which I guess we do if we want, he works his way down my body, stroking me underneath the perfect weight of his chest.

It’s times like this I can pretend, _easily_ well enough, that I have absolutely everything I want with Johnny.

Because right now it feels like I do. I watch him sucking lightly on my pecs, and then my abs, watch the way he puts his mouth on my skin. I raise one hand under my head, elbow out, staring, connected to him, the way his damp hair is down over his eyes, the gleam of blue returned on me until he closes them to kiss me under my navel.

It’s like I’m trapped underneath his long limbs, nowhere to go, and his hand is just so _good_ now; he knows my likes and my ways as well as I do. He’s rubbing me against his sexy body, which makes me start my itch every time, how irresistible it is to be caught in that warm, slick place.

His other thumb traces back and forth along the lines of my abs, and still, he doesn’t hurry what he’s doing. His lips inch lower, lower, until it feels like they’ve explored every part of me and finally he takes me inside his mouth. We’re alone, so I don’t need to stifle my groans, and I don’t.

His heat around me, the way I fit, it has me lifting off the bed, and his hands both come up on my body to force me back down. I _need_ him, I need his fingertips to dig into me. I need that intent look of want Johnny has, that’s telling me how ready his body must be for attention too, how much he loves what he’s doing to me and the way I’m nearly there for him.

He knows I like him to lick and suck me from the sides and above, and the sight of him doing it just about as good as the feeling. My body sings for him, a deep, deep ache gathering in me and he takes me inside again and pulls, pressure closing me in everywhere sensitive.

“ _Johnny…”_

My sounds are torn from my throat, and his eyes are so full of desire it’s hypnotising me.

He takes his mouth away, lift his head up, and strokes me, hard, perfectly. My tightness is so strong I can barely breathe from being on the edge.

“You wanna come now?”

“I need to…” I say desperately. “I can’t wait…”

“You don’t need to wait. Come for me.”

I cry out under his hand and thrust up as my itch breaks. I fight to keep my eyes open because I love how Johnny looks when he sees me like this. I’m making a mess on his bed and on us, and he _likes_ it: he’s watching me do it with so much want for me in that smile, it kills me.

He strokes me through the pulses and then he’s got his mouth on my body again. I’m catching my breath, trying to deal with how good it is when we have these kind of moments. Johnny’s light touches move across me again, while he slowly finds every taste of me on my skin.

“Lie down,” I ask weakly. “Need you… to…”

I’m still floating back to earth, but I have to _have_ him.

Johnny is in the mood to oblige, and it’s my turn now. He’s on his back. My mouth has only one place I wanna go, and I think that’s what he needs today, too, don’t think he’d be able to bear it one bit if I slow us back down and do what he did to me.

I circle him with my fingers, his beautiful weight, his skin drawn so _tight_. I feel it on my tongue, love the way that seems to make it as soft as velvet to lick. There’s this way I love to fit my lips around his head so that I can kiss him there, and I can usually tell how hard he wants me to do that or not. His eyes tighten while I’m up there, I smile and hum into him, enjoy running my tongue over his softness, but today I’m not just staying there.

I’ve been practicing this and I can open my throat some, now, and give him tightness he loves, and I do it. I’m bent over him, and his eyes squeeze shut. His prolonged moans fill his bedroom, his hands bury deep in my hair.

“Your mouth, Bobby… your fucking _perfect_ mouth…”

I whimper around him, fighting for air in through my nose and I can’t do this for long. I pull back to using my lips and tongue, sore and wet and determined. Johnny’s body spread in front of me, his face full of ecstasy, and he doesn’t want me to hold back now.

So I give him what he likes, over and over, lips firm, leading him to the end he needs. I feel him twitch in me. The first twitch inside my lips, and then silky warmth as he comes in a storm of obscenity. I swallow him down, taking him all the way though until he subsides, until I’m softly kissing him, licking gently over his slit, the last of his taste. His hands fall limply onto the bed and he sinks into it.

I climb up his body so I can watch him in his afterglow, as sexy as hell, still flushed and damp, his sweaty hair a mess where he’s been arching into the pillow.

He opens his eyes to find me there above him.

There’s some guardedness in his look, but not so much I’m warned away, so I stay.

Looking down at him, I know I’m at the stage where I can’t separate any of my feelings for him anymore: friends, this, lovers, more. It’s one huge and maybe frightening thing inside me. I think if Dutch is right about his theory, I get why Johnny would be worried about this. It is all joining, and it’s also so large I can’t even find the outline of it.

I want you _so much_ , I think. I don’t know if I can contain it inside me anymore.

I know I can’t tell you, know you don’t wanna hear it.

Johnny’s still just lying there, not touching me other than where my body presses onto him and I wonder what he can see in my eyes.

I’ve spent nearly half my life with him around. Knowing what he was worried or angry about, knowing what he was hurting about, knowing so often what he was thinking before he said or did it. Not about this, though. It’s just his blue eyes and his smooth but rough cheeks, his lips, his mouth which he gave to me one time. I have no idea what’s going on underneath it all.

I say quietly, “Are you gonna ask me what _I_ want, now?”

There’s a glimmer of uncertainty, maybe fear, and I wait for his hands to come up to my sides and tell me to move away now.

But they don’t.

“What do you want?” is the soft question.

“I want you to kiss me.”

Johnny’s eyes fill with something like a plea for me to stop talking, I don’t know. I feel the change in rhythm of his breathing underneath me, his chest rising and falling, faster, not smoothly. I feel it against my own slick skin.

He looks at my mouth, thinking more things I can’t read for sure.

“What kind of kiss?”

“You know what kind.”

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna want that all the time.”

It’s there again, the accusation, but there’s also a quaver in Johnny’s voice that I don’t know what to do with. And he still hasn’t asked me to move, or just _moved_ me.

“It’s been a while,” I tell him. “And I said I wouldn’t _do_ it all the time.”

He’s hanging on my words, I realise, staring at me, afraid, but curious for the next ones. Maybe still wishing I hadn’t said any of them.

I say softly, “I never stop wanting it. Not from you.”

There’s another sudden rise from his chest, an intake.

He looks between my eyes like he can’t help it anymore, and he lifts up and kisses me.


	2. Running From It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!!! Make sure you didn’t miss chapter 1 of this. The words in italics at the start here are the excerpt from the last of that chapter. They’re just to remind you of the scene we stopped in the middle of, and how it came about. Skip over them if you’ve come from straight from reading Chapter 1.
> 
> I’ve already told you the next chapter after this is OT3. It’s a shower scene that will NOT LEAVE MY HEAD, and insists on getting more and more detailed *____* It’s ballooning out by the day. Hopefully I survive for long enough to post it for you.
> 
> But before we get to that content, buckle up, folks… this is the big one, content-wise. I don’t know how this is going to land for you, but I cried a number of times while I wrote this part. That’s about all I’ll say.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and sharing your thoughts with me <333 It means more than words can express. It really does.

_I say quietly, “Are you gonna ask me what I want, now?”_

_There’s a glimmer of uncertainty, maybe fear, and I wait for Johnny’s hands to come up to my sides and tell me to move away now._

_But they don’t._

_“What do you want?” is the soft question._

_“I want you to kiss me.”_

_Johnny’s eyes fill with something like a plea for me to stop talking, I don’t know. I feel the change in rhythm of his breathing underneath me, his chest rising and falling, faster, not smoothly. I feel it against my own slick skin._

_He looks at my mouth, thinking more things I can’t read for sure._

_“What kind of kiss?”_

_“You know what kind.”_

_“I thought you said you weren’t gonna want that all the time.”_

_It’s there again, the accusation, but there’s also a quaver in Johnny’s voice that I don’t know what to do with. And he still hasn’t asked me to move, or just moved me._

_“It’s been a while,” I tell him. “And I said I wouldn’t do it all the time.”_

_He’s hanging on my words, I realise, staring at me, afraid, but curious for the next ones. Maybe still wishing I hadn’t said any of them._

_I say gently, “I never stop wanting it. Not from you.”_

There’s another sudden rise from his chest, an intake.

He looks between my eyes like he can’t help it anymore, and he lifts up and kisses me.

It’s even before I know Johnny’s going to, when the warm lips are on mine again.

It’s nothing like our first, wonderful, desperate kiss in the alley. But it’s better.

His soft tongue finds mine and his mouth falls into place around me. His hand in my hair brings me down to him, and I have to go with it, as close as I possibly can.

Again it’s absolutely _everything,_ oh god.

The fingers on my scalp, the way he tastes, the air from his nose on my cheek. I’m holding his head between my hands, my palms up by his ears, and he’s in my mouth. We’re touching, joining, my body all around his, like I’m part of him. Like we’re one.

We were always meant to do this. It’s the same with Dutch. This is what I want with them now, both of them. Nothing else with any _one_ else could dream of coming remotely close to this feeling right here.

And kissing like this, lying like this, is what you do when you care about people, when you feel this way about someone. You feel his soft, wet lips patiently kissing you, the way your fingertips tingle just because they’re touching his skin.

I seek into the mouth that fits me so well, find his tongue with mine, feel the hint of grazing on my lips from his scarce stubble. It’s not like our other kiss _at all_ , and I don’t know whether to wish it was, because it’s tender enough that it feels like it will break my heart when it stops. It probably will.

Johnny keeps things like this locked away almost always, but as long as he’s giving it to me, I’ll take it. I kiss him back with everything I have.

When his head lays back down on the pillow and I lose him, I try to smooth back over the openings inside me, but I’m not able to.

I haven’t concealed them: I know it’s clear, because of the look forming in his eyes.

“Johnny,” I whisper in protest, but I know it won’t make any difference. It’s too late.

He slowly shakes his head. “That’s why I can’t.”

A soreness washes up into my heart as his knees come up, and his hands to my arms, which means _move_. He’s not rough, but he wants me to get off of him. I untangle myself and try to even _start_ to deal with that hot ache that I feel in my chest and in my eyes.

Johnny’s not looking at me anymore, and I sit next to him on the bed, waiting until he will.

But he gets up and crosses his legs, folding his elbows onto his knees and pressing his head into his hands. His back is curved, facing half away from me.

“But why?” I ask, feeling hollow.

I hear a sigh of despair. “Because, I know you… you’re gonna want to…”

“What, Johnny? What am I gonna want?”

He looks at me now, and there’s anger, not a _rage_ of it, but like he’s been holding it against me for a long time. My neck feels like someone is holding me tight so that I can’t breathe or swallow.

“You _know_.”

“Why the fuck does that have to be a bad thing? You’ve never really managed to explain that.”

I guess we’re really going to have this conversation now. Oh _shit._

It could be the biggest mistake. The fear I’ve done wrong by asking compresses my chest, and my heart is racing; there’s no room for it to work properly. I’m in desperation, hoping that I haven’t just fucked up in a way that Dutch might never forgive me for.

Johnny glares at me, as if the answer should be obvious. “Cos you don’t wanna _do_ that.”

“ _I_ don’t want to?”

“Fucking right.”

I look at him like he’s an idiot, which I firmly believe he is now. This guy cannot be for real.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I think I _know_ -”

“You _don’t_ ,” he cuts in harshly. “You don’t wanna start something with me.”

“It’s too late for that,” I say, hearing my annoyance, which isn’t really the greatest way to say it. But we’re arguing now, it seems, and so be it, because it’s automatic to get riled up when someone is stupid. “It’s _started_ , even if it hasn’t for you.”

He recoils like I attacked him, and there it is in his face: Johnny is rejecting me.

“I knew this was a mistake.”

The words drop into a silent room and my world starts to close in around me. Panic, shock. Agony.

_No_ , Johnny, I want to say. I take it back. I didn’t mean it.

Johnny runs his hand roughly through his hair and then punches his leg. “Shit. _Fuck._ Why am I such an idiot? I _knew_. And yet I did it anyway.”

I gasp like it was me he hit, instead of his thigh, and there’s nothing I can do to stop the wet feeling in my eyes. It hurts so much that I can’t see; everything in his room is blurred.

“You don’t want me.” 

“It’s not _that_ ,” says his tired voice, ever so slightly softer, but tense with impatience.

I know the tears are coming out, and even if they weren’t, he’d hear them in my voice. I try to blink them away.

“Then what? Tell me. It can’t be any worse that what I think it is.”

“You’ll meet a girl, sooner or later, and like I said, I _know_ you. You’ll wanna get married. Then what? What about this, if we’ve started?”

Now reality lurches around to a new angle, and I don’t know if I can keep up, but oh _Johnny_. So _this_ is what’s been in your head?

He’s thinking about the future, our future, if there was one, because of _course_ he is. Johnny’s always wanted long term, at least before he closed himself off from wanting anything at all. If Johnny finds someone, that’s what he’d want with them. To know it was possible at least, if things go well.

That makes sense, I think, and I think it _at him,_ angrily. Because I wish he’d have told me that _before._

Honestly, it couldn’t be any less relevant to me with where I’ve come this year. With how I feel about him and Dutch.

I say firmly, “What if I don’t wanna meet a girl?”

“And there it is!” he says, as if his point has been proved. Johnny mustn’t be listening, since that’s the complete opposite of what just happened. “ _Exactly_ what I was afraid of.”

He’s got the angry look again, as if I’m refusing to see his obvious reasoning.

None of this makes any sense, expect that it’s fucked up, which kinda does, from my friend, but I just don’t get how even _Johnny_ can have it this fucked up.

Fighting the fear that he will push me away, a strong fear that flashes inside my head like a warning siren - _red, red, Johnny’s already rejected you_ \- I risk the hurt to move close enough on the bed that I can put my hand on his shoulder.

He flinches and turns from me, but not far, and not before I clearly see the pain in his eyes. His heads hangs down low, defeated.

I try to be as gentle as I can when I speak, but I pretty much fail. “Why are you saying such bullshit?”

“I’m not a person you want this with.”

And there we are.

I stare at him sadly, the side of his face, appalled at how weighed down he is. I’m here now, I think, I’m here at another answer, possibly even the most important one, with how hopeless he looks now he’s admitted it. This. _This_ is it. Perhaps I should’ve known: I should’ve expected this, with how well I know Johnny.

Well, it’s good to know at last, because now I can actually deal with this properly.

I can’t calm myself down to speak, because this has hurt too much, but I say insistently, “Don’t tell me that. I know exactly what I want. It’s both of you. It’s you.”

“Why do you have to make this so hard, Bobby?” he says, and it’s the voice of someone utterly lost. Fresh tears stream from me, enough that there’s no point in trying to stop them this time. “Can’t you see I’m doing this for your sake?”

“You could not be more wrong.”

He shakes his head and his hand comes up over his eyes, rubbing over his face. “I would fuck you up, you know I would. You can’t tell me it’s not true.”

“Johnny….” I choke out, but I can’t get any further.

“It’s what I do. You know that better than anyone. I can’t do it to _you_.”

I’ve never had a hurt like this. I’ve had a lot of them, but to see someone I care so much about feel this way is astonishingly painful. Knowing that he’s hidden it for so long nearly destroys me.

“You’re not gonna,” I try.

“I will,” he says firmly, with a finality. “I would. And I’ll never forgive myself.”

But he hasn’t shrugged me away. I slide my arm around him, and my other one through under his chest so that I’m holding him from the side. I rest my weight on the back of his shoulder.

“If you…” he starts, not looking at me, and I hear a tremble in his voice that stings me. “If you want to… if you’re feeling this about him, you should… you both should… you don’t need me.”

My face crumples and I try to make it so my voice will talk, somehow, through how I’m feeling.

It doesn’t work.

“I’ve seen you, both of you,” he says with that waver. “I… that’s what I want for you, now. I know you want it, too. So does he. You should have it. You don’t need my permission, but I’ll… I won’t be part of this anymore, so that you can…”

“ _Johnny_ …” I’m hoarse.

“It’ll be a lot easier that way.”

“We don’t want this without _you_. How can you even…?”

I have to stop, to breathe down the sob that wants to come. This is the first time in my life I’ve had a really broken heart. And it’s not coming from someone not wanting me; it’s coming from someone not letting me want them the way that I do, the way that I just can’t help.

“You don’t need me there,” Johnny repeats, and he reaches for my hand to lift it away.

I grip tighter, and resist when he pulls on me. His fingers close over my wrist and he tries to get me to let go of him, but I tense up and bring us back around his body. I don’t give up, and eventually he drops the effort and I feel him sag inside my arms.

“For fuck’s sake, _listen_ to me,” he says, frustrated but sounding empty.

I ignore him. “And what about _you_ and Dutch?”

“Same thing,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re good for him. I’d let him down. Sooner or later I’d screw up, and he’s had enough people let him down. I’m not gonna do that to him.”

I want to yell at him that he’s kinda doing that _now_ , by not giving us a shot, by not giving himself a shot, but I know it would wound him even more, and unlike me, I’m not sure Johnny could get through it, so I push it down hard.

“But Dutch wants the same thing I do, from you,” I say gently. “He wants it so much.”

“I _know_ he does,” Johnny says, and the impatience is back. “Can’t you see I’m doing this for both your sakes?”

“You think you are, but you’re wrong.”

I lean my head against the side of his. There’s silence, and his uneven breathing under my arms. I don’t understand why he’s given up fighting me holding him, but maybe he needs the comfort bad enough that he can’t refuse, I don’t know.

“We trust you, Johnny.”

He moves his face away, shrugging me off from such closeness, but I’m not surprised. I’m watching him from the side, seeing the way he frowns deeply down at his bed. “You shouldn’t.”

“You don’t let me down. You don’t disappoint me. I know you’ll never hurt me in any way that matters: we’d be okay. We always have been.”

“Don’t do this.” He turns his head, and he’s so near to me, I can’t bear to see the red in his eyes. “Please,” is the ragged whisper. “Do you have any _idea_ how much I just want to…”

Johnny can’t finish. But the look on his face means he doesn’t need to, because he either won’t or can’t hide it, now.

And even though it’s the admission I’ve longed for with _all my being_ , I _can’t_ let it in yet. I can’t: I’d lose myself in it, when I need to focus. I doesn’t mean anything unless I can get through to him.

“I _need_ you,” I say, and tighten my arms around him. “I know you better than anyone, and everything I know is _why_ I want you. You’re not being fair to me.”

He’s getting a protest ready, I can see that, so I keep talking so he can’t.

“If you’ve ever cared about me, or trusted me, then I want you to trust me, right now. You’re feeling that way because this is right for us.”

He’s shaking his head again, but it’s so, so clear he wishes to believe me. Amidst the despair, there is openness in his face; he’s showing me he doesn’t know what to do next. It’s naked trust in me to tell him. It’s worry about what will happen if he listens.

“How can you know?”

“I just do,” I say simply. “I’m not sure if I’ve ever been so certain about something in my whole life.”

The erratic movement of his breathing picks up under my arms, and Johnny stares between my eyes. I see shame there, and I don’t understand why.

“I don’t have anything to offer you.”

My heart twists in misery for him, this person I care about with all of me, that he could think that, truly believe that. I think I can be sure he won’t slip away if I let go of my grip around him now, so I move the hand I’ve got around him onto his chest, where his heart is. I leave it there.

“That’s not true.”

I move my thumb over him, feeling his heartbeat, making sure he knows exactly what my meaning is. He closes his eyes, swallows hard.

“What if you change your mind? About me?”

I smile, tasting tears in the back of my throat, and graze my fingers along his jaw.

“That would have happened a long time ago.”

“Bobby…” he pleads, his voice a rasp, and now his gaze is begging me again.

Give _in_ , I think. You stupid _idiot._ Can’t you see how right this is?

I tell him, “I’m never going to stop feeling this way about you. So if you don’t want me, you need to tell me. Say it.”

“I can’t say that,” he whispers, and it comes out with hardly any sound.

“Why?”

“Because that’s not true.”

I wait. My eyes don’t leave his and I wait, as much patience in my expression as I can get there. I need him to know that I’m okay if this is hard for him. I’m okay if it takes him time to get his head around it, as long as he _starts_ to.

“Well?” I ask gently.

“This… us? All of us?” His uncertain hope nearly breaks my heart in a new way.

“That’s what I want. It’s perfect. I mean, we already _know_ that. Don’t we?”

After a pause, Johnny nods slowly, tentatively.

“Yeah?” I ask.

The weakest smile shows, vanishes, appears again as a hint. A little stream of relief breaks into me, like water finding a new course for the first time. Johnny’s still looking at me, knowing how I feel about him and not taking back what he said about me. When he tries the uncertain smile again, the wash starts to pour right through me.

I curl my fingers under his neck and move in an inch. Johnny is a little slower, but he comes in too. He stares between my eyes and my mouth, and the full force of look number three hits me up close, and it doesn’t stop. I can’t breathe.

_Me too,_ I think. _Me too._

It’s a roar inside me now, the torrent taking everything with it and leaving me struggling for something to hold onto. But then I remember I can let go completely if I want to, so I do. I don’t need to do anything to stop how I feel, or hide it, or regret it. Because now, it’s alright.

There’s one last flicker, a question at me about whether this is what I want, and _how can he not know that,_ so I’ll show him so he never has to ask again.

We start to kiss, and even though I can still taste my tears, it’s the best moment of my life. I move my arms, pull on Johnny so he turns to me, and I bring him down lying on top of me, just to hold him, like I’ve always longed to do.

He’s so big, and exactly right there, and I’ve got my fingers deep in his hair, and he’s kissing into my mouth to kill us both. It’s not rough, but Johnny means it so much that it feels overwhelming.

This time I know I don’t have to fear when it will end.

Our legs lock together, wind around. We’re both still wearing our shorts, but other than that, his skin is on mine, and it’s worth every minute of the wait. My hands are greedy for the tender touches they’ve been wanting to give Johnny for months: I show him how much I adore him in the way I hold him, touch his broad back, run along the underside of his arms when they lift over my head while he holds himself up. In the slow way we kiss, and kiss.

The feeling I’m getting back from him is way too much for my mind, where the only function occurring now is happy and total disbelief.

I have Johnny.

That can’t be true, and yet it _must_ be true, because I can’t live without him. And I can’t bear to ever go through that again. My heart is bruised and sore, but so ready for the new feelings that are coming in, promising that it will feel better there, soon. Soon nothing will hurt, maybe not ever again.

Johnny has his place between my legs and I hold him there, trying to bring him down on me as much as I can. It feels like we’re going to get started again: I think it’s me first, but Johnny not far behind. There’s some purpose in how he pushes into me.

I break away before we do, and say, “We can’t go any further on this without him.”

“You’re right.”

Johnny holds himself above me, staring down. I can’t see everything; I doubt I ever will. But I can see enough to know it’s all changed now. _All_ of it.

“Will you go talk to him?” I ask, my heart pounding with what it will be like once we have Dutch with us. With _me._

I know they need to be alone for that, and by Johnny’s nod, he does too. “Then what?”

“Then how about you get your fucking asses back to me, pronto.”

Johnny finds a smirk, and for some reason, it’s the happiest thing I’ve ever seen.

“He might not even be there.”

I roll my eyes and tighten my arms around him. “So you’ll call him; you’ll wait. And then you’ll talk, right?”

“Yes, Bobby,” he says obediently, some mockery in his smile.

“Once you’ve done that, I want both of you at my house. Now, hurry _up_.”


	3. Cardio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the love on our biggggg last chapter!!! I hope this one hits the spot for you (NB: do make sure you’ve read both chapter 1 and 2 of this part!!)
> 
> **Next instalment** is Part 9: Maximum Heartrate. In it, we have a Bobby/Dutch, a Bobby/Johnny, and finishing on the OT3. I’m still writing them, and it’s going well (about halfway there). Will post when I can. And that will be that for the Sweat series :)
> 
> Every now and then, I hope to write a little treat, a visit with the OT3 in their future, but I consider the main narrative to close with Part 9, so I will call the series ‘complete’ at that stage. Also, those theoretical instalments could be far off, so please don’t get too anxious for them. I can’t make any promises that they will occur <3
> 
> Enjoy! And as always, I’d love to hear from you *heart eyes*

I need insurance, just in case Johnny loses some of his nerve, seeing that Dutch wasn’t there for what happened, which means that it’s gonna be up to Johnny to try to explain it, or at least the important parts.

So I phone Dutch, knowing that I would’ve gotten home before Johnny gets to Dutch’s apartment.

“Well, Johnny’s on his way over there.”

I’m sitting here smiling my heart out, because I get to tell him the news he’s been waiting for, for years. Not only that, but Dutch is going to be mine, too. I don’t know how I’m going to bear that, but I’ll just _have_ to. It’s everything I want.

“Whatever the fuck he says to you, I need you to hear what’s behind it, like I know you can. I’m worried he won’t say much, though, which I why I probably need to tell you some of it myself.”

*

I’ve left the front door open, and I’m sitting on my couch, waiting, down on the lower level of my condo.

Mike’s out all day. The space is mine, and soon, ours. I left Johnny’s house about ninety minutes ago, and Johnny soon after that, I assume. Since I know Dutch was home, I’m hoping it won’t be too much longer. Then I hear their cars: I’d know those sounds anywhere.

Dutch steps inside the doorway, with Johnny after him.

It’s a strangely unreal moment, outside of time, and I don’t really believe in it. Johnny got changed before he left home, I think blandly. Weird; I’m still sitting here in my workout clothes.

The first thing Dutch does is walk over to me, and he’s got this wildness, this intense blazing look for me, like the _best_ thing. I’m starting to find the physical will to get to my feet, but he stalls me and sits down over me, one knee on each side on the seat cushions, so I can’t go anywhere.

I’m vaguely aware of Johnny hanging back, waiting, but my attention is pretty much all on Dutch. He gathers the neck of my tank up in two tight fists. My heart’s up in my throat: he’s got me with his gaze, his smile of disbelief, and I can’t move or think for my happiness, after our waiting. I know, I mean I _think_ I know, that this is _it_. This is our moment.

He begins, “Bobby, I have no idea how the _fuck_ you’ve done this.”

“Done… what?” I ask, smiling into his face, hoping and knowing the answer.

His forehead creases, he stares at me like he doesn’t understand where I came from; his fists pull on my shirt, and it goes tight around the back of my neck.

“I could kiss you.”

It undoes something in me. It lets the creature out free to roam and wind around anywhere it wants, and it streaks through me, until it’s visited every part within what feels like an instant. Thoughts race in a clamour in my head: I care about you so much, you’re mine now, it’s too much, how do I hold this feeling?

“So why don’t you, then?” Johnny says, and he sits down next to us.

I can only glance at him briefly, seeing his slightly hesitant smile, but most of my world is now Dutch. On me, around me, in my arms before I can stop them from coming up to hold him. Johnny must have said _everything_ he needed to: that’s what this means. It would have been simpler there, maybe, after he gave in with me, at his house.

Dutch doesn’t need to be told twice, and neither do I, and his mouth comes against mine, sealing our lips together. My heart floats out of me, and his warm mouth opens to me, and for the first time, I can feel free to feel everything we share.

It’s never been easy to hold back when he kisses me, maybe not even from that first day, but I don’t have to, anymore. I hold him at the side of his neck and kiss him with my whole heart. His fists pull me in closer, pull on my shirt so it tightens around me again, and his knees move a little as he gets comfortable on me.

I’m searching his face, his shoulders, with my hands, holding him like I always wish I could be doing. His mouth is my soft place; I never need air when I’m there, just him, just his skilful kiss, like I have every ounce of his attention, like he feels exactly the same way I do.

It’s fucking _real_. It’s happened. We have everything we wanted.

He stops to smile at me, turning my heart over, and then we’re kissing again, less desperate, his hands still at my collar, holding me to his mouth, until one hand gently slips away from me, and goes to Johnny, who I know must be watching us.

It’s too much for my brain to think I’m allowed to have Dutch like this now, just _too much_ , and I’m very afraid I’m asleep and dreaming, since I _have_ been dreaming of exactly this.

When we stop, he brushes my hair away from my face and holds me there, his fingers by my ear. He stares at me in wonder.

“Honestly… I could kiss you all day. How is it you managed to get through to this guy?”

“Hey,” Johnny protests, and he’s got this smile playing on his lips. He’s holding Dutch’s hand in his lap. I can tell how out of his depth he is, but he likes this moment, and he’s trying his best to be comfortable even though he’s not there yet, not all the way, and _god_ , why does my heart respond to that so strongly?

There’s a soaring in my chest at the look Johnny’s giving Dutch, because it shows so clearly how he feels about him. I _love_ it, and it’s just another moment that confirms how right this is going to be for all of us.

Now that I can see it unobscured, I realise it’s how he was looking at Dutch right from that very first time I saw them, but Johnny isn’t fighting it, or cloaking it, or pretending it’s not there, anymore.

“‘Hey’ what?” Dutch says to him. “You got something to say to me?”

“Yeah. Come here and I will.”

Now it’s my hand that Dutch takes as he goes to Johnny, sits over his lap, and the feelings that swell up in me as I watch them are just hot and right and overwhelming. I’ve only seen them kiss once before, and I remember thinking how perfect it looked.

It still does, and I think I could watch them for hours: Dutch’s closed eyes, content in passion, Johnny’s nose pressing his cheek, two people confident in how their lover feels about them, knowing they belong.

“Nonverbal approach, huh?” Dutch asks, after Johnny pulls away. Johnny’s got his arms all the way around him so that he’s holding his own wrists at Dutch’s back.

“Just trying to get you to shut up.”

“Yeah? Well good l-”

Johnny grins and does it again. I tighten my fingers around Dutch’s hand, and he squeezes in my grip, warm and reassuring and _there._

I never expected I could feel this way about two people at the same time, but I do, and because of who they are, it’s powerfully strong. This right here is what I want more than anything in the world: them together, me with them.

Dutch tugs my hand so that I get pulled in closer, which means he wants me in their moment more. I lift fingers to his cheek, feeling his hint of stubble, unsure at first whether I’m supposed to be doing this, but I see the way he smiles into the kiss they’re sharing, and so I cup him there, desperately enjoying the way I can just let my feelings for him go now, let them continue take over inside me.

He brings my other hand onto Johnny, and we both caress him through his t-shirt, all three of us, connected.

When they stop kissing, Dutch and I are still touching him there, and I’m still in close. Johnny watches me. I see thoughts there, and although I can only ever guess at what they might be, it’s like he won’t be looking away from me ever again if he has any say in it

I really, really can’t cope, but at the same time it’s what my heart has maybe always needed to happen to me.

“Are you still sure?” he asks.

I slowly nod, gazing at him. “Aren’t you, now?”

“I’m sorry,” he says in this small voice.

I move the hand I have on him, and give him a comforting stroke, back and forth on his chest. “I don’t need you to be.”

Dutch gently disengages, perhaps realising that Johnny wants to talk to me right now. He leaves the two of us, and goes to sit on my other side. His hand rests on my knee.

“But, I am,” Johnny says. “I…” He closes his eyes briefly, squeezes them tight, breathes out heavily. “I was scared.”

I swallow, not having a lot of distance from the feelings that we shared only a few hours ago, and I feel them skating around the edge of my mind.

“I know that.”

He still is, too, I’m pretty sure, but he doesn’t need to know I know that. He looks at me with regret, and the openness again, like when he decided to trust what I was saying. There are so, so few who get that from him, possibly even most of them are in this room, and even we haven’t _always._

“I wish I hadn’t been. I almost fucked this up and missed the chance to have… you.”

Hotness grows in my chest. I come closer to him and lift my hand to his face.

“It’s okay… you didn’t.”

“You didn’t give up on me.”

I feel how tense he is when I start to run the back of my fingers along him, but then he leans ever so slightly into my touch.

“Nope. I want this too much. You’d have to try way harder than that.”

It feels scary to me too, to be able to do this. And even when I’m past the fleeting fear that maybe I’m _not_ allowed, that Johnny will stop me, which he doesn’t, it’s not any less scary. Because every part of me is now made over to the feeling that seems way, way too large.

He’s my best friend, someone I’d die for without any second thought.

He cared so much for us that in his screwed up understanding he thought he was protecting us by not getting involved, was even willing to give up what he had with Dutch if it meant Dutch could be happy with me instead, and me with him.

He thought that maybe if he started something with me, it would only ever be until I found a future partner, a girl, and he didn’t want to set up for that loss by even beginning. And I know that what Dutch said was right, as well: he was terrified of mixing this, of risking us as friends, just to start something new.

Even the very thought of imagining some of those things going on in Johnny’s head hurts more than I can handle. I’m gonna work on making sure they disappear, forever.

I figure I may as well kiss him, hoping that maybe every time we’re together, I can take those away, one piece at a time.

*

When Dutch stands up and pulls me to my feet because he wants something else to start happening now, it feels like I’m floating on air.

Also apparently a couple hours is plenty of time for me to want it as much as if it’s the first time of the day, but Dutch has that effect when he gives me this kinda signal. Johnny smirks at us when we start to drag him along with us, up the three steps to the main level, and it’s me that starts to head us toward the downstairs bathroom on the left.

We’re in a group, and I’m working on the top buttons of Dutch’s flannel shirt, while Johnny is behind him and sliding his hands up underneath. I’m smiling so much my cheeks ache, and I see it reflected in that beautiful face in front of me, right before Johnny pulls his shirt away and I move into Dutch so I can put my mouth on the base of his throat.

We’re stumbling, half walking, half standing while I kiss him messily there, my tongue on perfect rough skin because he needs to shave, on his Adam’s apple, then searching for his pulse, hearing him gasp. Someone pulls my shorts down my hips, and I can feel Dutch’s body coming in closer, his hands sliding over my chest. I kiss along his shoulders, hungrily seeking the feel of his muscle on my tongue, my eyes on Johnny while he’s pulling his own shirt over his head.

I don’t think any of us know what to touch first, but it feels perfect. Johnny pushes me against the wall next to the bathroom; my back hits it with a thump and he crowds me in with his thigh in between my legs. I can’t take my eyes off him as he comes in to wait near my mouth, hot breath on my lips, staring hard at me before his eyes slip closed and he starts to kiss me again.

I work on his jeans; Dutch is behind him, mouthing across Johnny’s back, helping me pull the jeans down. Our clothes are in a crooked line along the hallway floor behind us, and I’m reaching to open the door to the bathroom, pushing on Johnny’s shoulders, because as much as I need to kiss him for the rest of my life, I also need us to _get in there,_ so we can get what we all can’t wait much longer for.

There’s a few last things to take off while I turn the shower on, and then I’m treated to the sight of Johnny leaning back against the tiles, and Dutch stepping right up against him inside his legs, his hands reaching behind Johnny to his ass, to lock their hips together while the water cascades over them. Two tight bodies, strong; streams of water falling over muscles and tan skin, desire in every angle of how they hold each other.

I pull in a breath, hot and shaky; my body comes alive with sore need for them, and that’s a lot more about how I feel about them than it is about how sexy they look melded together that way, even though it’s so _hot_ I’m drawn toward them without even meaning to take a step.

Their eyes are closed for their deep kiss, and I take hold of Dutch’s shoulders, feeling what it’s like to put my body against him this way. I kiss the back of his neck, my lips warm from him and from the water coming down over him, over us. I follow the shape of his body with my fingers, down his sides, so gorgeous, so alive.

My hands come to his ass. I lose my breath again while I touch, his glutes firm and round and magic below the press of my fingertips, and I can’t stop. I’m moving up against him, finding friction for myself on his wet body, kissing down in between his shoulder blades.

I keep going down his spine with my lips, bending down as the shower trickles over me and I have to shut my eyes to keep the water out. I slip my hand around in between Dutch and Johnny, and _fucking hell_ , there’s hot hardness there, both of them together, and now I feel the movement from one of them lazily stroking them in one hand. I cover that hand, Johnny’s big hand, mixing my fingers with his as we slide up and down.

My mouth is in Dutch’s lower back, right before the roundness of his body starts, and I almost want to kiss him a little lower, but that seems like it could be a really weird thing to do, so I move up again instead.

I can hear his moan about the touching Johnny’s doing, that we’re doing, can feel Dutch’s body moving slightly, into the stroke. I wipe my eyes and kiss up by his ear, licking and then tugging on his lobe.

There’s a deep sound of enjoyment from his throat, and he breaks away from kissing, meets my gaze over his shoulder.

“I wish you didn’t stop,” I whisper to him. “I love watching you do that.”

He licks his bottom lip and looks at my mouth. “But I need to kiss _you_ now…”

I honestly think my heart’s going to give out today, but it’s okay. It’s like we all have a new toy with the kissing, and I can’t get enough of doing it and watching them do it.

I come in just for a soft touch of his mouth, so I can look at him again after that, let myself feel every single thing that’s trying to come through me. He does it again, his tongue lightly tracing my lips, and I shiver.

I’ve still got my hand in between them, but we’ve slowed to this now, and when I look at Johnny, I see how he feels about us doing this, too. The same as me.

“Can we…?” I ask.

Dutch smiles. “We can try.”

I bite my lip as he moves aside a little, enough to give me some room. With everything in me at the most content I’ve ever felt in my life, I nod to him, _go on_. He kisses Johnny at the corner of his mouth, starting an open kiss, and I come into them there.

There’s definitely not really enough room to reach, but it’s _wonderful_ , and it’s everything. We go slow, each of us taking some room in turn, and finding each other. It’s mostly our tongues, gentle, languid, since we can’t all get our lips together at the same time, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so connected to anyone in my life.

I’m in a dream state, and we’re holding each other, none of us breathing properly, like we’re frozen in this intimacy.

That’s Johnny’s arm that has just slipped over my shoulder and hooked lightly around my neck. My arms find their way one behind each of them so I’m holding them both. I think we’re going to have to spend a lot of time doing this going forward, and maybe we’ll get better at it. Maybe we won’t, but I’m sure it will always feel this fucking amazing, because it’s them, and they’re mine.

Eventually I start to kiss over Dutch’s cheek, until I find his ear again.

“Wanna taste you, okay?”

He gives me this little smirk. “Well, I guess if you want something that badly…”

I kiss his earlobe again, smile my want at him. “Don’t know if I can wait any longer.”

Johnny’s turning Dutch around to stand in front him, and wrapping him in his arms, out of the shower spray, while I drop to my knees. We’ve already learned that it’s big enough for us to fit in here, standing or kneeling, or a few other options we got creative with the second time they came over.

Johnny’s hand comes down to hold Dutch for me, most of it resting in his hair, but with thumb and finger circling him for me, and _yes,_ that’s what I want. I need his body, all of him, but his dick is so sexy it still makes me want to hurt myself. I stare up at him, my heart pricked by his warm, deep eyes, and I lick him softly with my tongue, putting all my feelings for him into what I’m about to do.

Johnny’s got one arm right around his ribs, and Dutch finds those fingers, weaving them together with his, while I run my tongue over every vein and ridge. I’m always gonna think he’s beautiful here, always going to crave it and need to make him feel good. He leans back on Johnny’s shoulder, and Johnny holds him, rests his head against him while they watch me.

I take him, deep, slow, in my mouth. Dutch sighs long, soft, in pleasure, his body relaxing like he’s weakening for me. Johnny keeps holding him, and my lips meet his hand, as I slide Dutch slowly in and out. When I start to lick over him, in the soft ways he seems to like best of all, Johnny strokes him gently, and Dutch makes a helpless sound.

I’m gently kissing his head and making love to him, welcoming the numb slide I always get with my lips, like the skin is too soft for me, I don’t know. Dutch _moans_ for me, and my ears are greedy for that sound; he’s getting more passionate, and a little more. Johnny starts to tease him with his hand, below where I am, as I get lost in caring for him this way. 

I taste how he’s enjoying me, and when I look up, they’re kissing again, light kisses in between Dutch’s sounds, his moans into Johnny’s mouth. I don’t know if seeing them that way is going to stop feeling this overwhelming or not, but I don’t really want it to. Knowing how much Dutch needs that, and Johnny too even if he didn’t admit that before, how _natural_ it looks, gives me a feeling so deep that nobody would be able to dislodge it.

I slide my hands up Dutch’s stomach, right up to his chest, while I give him what he needs, and his body moves into me, chasing it. I slide my lips over his head so I can use my tongue where he likes, tracing out the shapes I know from memory, sometimes slowly sliding him back in deeper.

He groans and his hand finds my wet hair; his fingers press in, and his body comes forward to me more urgently, as he starts to lose control of himself.

I take him on and on, his thighs clenching, muscles in his body going tight under my hands, until I hear the sound of relief as he lets go. The burst in my mouth makes me throb painfully with arousal, and I let the pulses fill me, my tongue seeking the feeling of his skin, his copper-salt silkiness gorgeous in my mouth.

I kiss him through it, swallow him, feel his taste still on my lips. I’m licking him softly as his sounds calm, and then I lock onto the fierce want in Johnny’s eyes. There’s only one way I respond to that, so after I have stroked Dutch’s thighs, felt him relaxing, and spent, I say:

“I’m still on my knees.”

Johnny can’t hide from me how that turns him on: I see his jaw go tight, his eyes darken.

“You gonna stay there?”

“I guess we’ll see if it’s for long enough.”

He smiles dangerously at me, and my groin is on fire for him.

Dutch is smirking; he hasn’t really seen us do this yet, be like this, or be where I can tell we’re gonna go. But already I can tell he likes it, is going to let us go for it. He comes down next to me.

Johnny is in front of me, hard, thick. Impatient.

If I want him to get more impatient, which I do, then I take my time. I brush my thumb down one side of his length, staring up at him.

He won’t smile, not with his mouth, but I can see a hint of it there in his eyes today, maybe because we have an audience, maybe because it’s all different now for us. I don’t think we will go as far as we sometimes do with this, with him denying me until neither of us can bear it any longer, or the way he sometimes taunts me harshly, but it all makes me harder than anything else does, so I have to have _some_ of it.

My tracing touch, back up his hardness, up past the ridge of his head, has him parting his lips. I lick just the tip of my tongue over his slit and then sit back again, smiling at how his hips come forward for more.

I stare calmly at Johnny as if I don’t know what he wants and needs, and feel exactly what I’ve been looking for, when both hands come up into my hair.

There’s my warning that I better not fuck around for too long.

I don’t heed it.

I slide my fingers over his abs, taking something _I_ want, instead, and he smirks. The fingers tighten on my head.

I lick a longer stripe over him, letting him see my tongue drag slowly, teasingly. I touch the gathered skin, press in there, knowing how agonising that would be without enough to go with it.

His body is tense, because he’s in the mood to take what he wants from me now, and this time I actually force him to: teasing him only lightly with my tongue until he brings me down on him, when he realises it’s the only way it will happen. When my mouth is filled without me doing it, and his head hits my palette, near the back of my throat, a pulse of adrenaline goes through me, because I think Johnny could probably hurt me if he wanted to, make me gag, could be rough enough that I wouldn’t like it.

But he’s guiding me, and pushes in and out with his hips again, further, holding me so I can’t move away, a soft groan starting already, because we both know he’s doing this, not me, and I’m letting him.

Dutch has his hand low on my back; he was watching to see how we do this, maybe to make sure I’m okay with it. Now that he sees I am, he comes into me from the side, crowding me with his beautiful body, and I feel him running his hands over me, exploring me, while I start to give Johnny more pressure as he thrusts into my mouth.

He gives me approval at that, seems to hesitate and then loosens his grip, stops forcing me. Now I’m back in control, and I smile hungrily as best I can with my mouth full, because I think we will play that game again soon, and we might both let it go differently next time, take it further.

Now I’m welcoming my lips getting number and number, until Dutch starts to kiss him there too. Once he does that, our hands and mouths seem to join, finding Johnny in a blur of how much we need him. We find each other in between; Dutch kisses over my tired lips, stroking Johnny while he tenses into the attention. When Dutch takes Johnny inside, it’s my turn to kiss along the side of the soft skin.

Johnny’s getting more and more urgent, but I’ve got to stop: I’ve got this thumping want inside me, so much desire for them that I ache, but there’s something I _need_ right now in particular. I have to have it.

Slowly, I rise up, kissing Johnny’s abs while I leave Dutch behind, licking each droplet of water I can find. I kiss across to his obliques and up the side of his body, over each bump of muscle, feeling his tremble under me. When I’m standing before him, I take his hand and bring it around behind me, hoping he’ll know what I mean without words.

He’s flushed with how much he’s enjoying what we’ve been doing to him, and he swallows hard and looks between my eyes.

“Now?”

“I can’t wait any longer.”

Dutch has stopped and he’s looking up at us. He gets to his feet.

“In here?”

I shrug, almost nervously. “Can… we?”

“You got something?”

“Yeah,” I say, the back of my neck hot. “In the…”

Dutch smiles and leaves the shower, and I can hear him in the drawers of the vanity. When he comes back with a familiar looking tube, which he gives to Johnny, I guess I have my answer.

“How about you come over here?”

He’s waiting for me mostly outside of the shower spray, and he pats the wall.

When I move there, he comes behind me and draws me into a hug, running one hand down my bicep and then lifting my arm so I’m resting my forearm on the tiles.

He kisses the back of my neck and moves in against me.

After a pause, and the sound of the cap clicking, I feel his slippery fingers slide down over me, along my ass, and I sigh.

“Wanna get you ready, ok? Wanna make you feel so good here.”

I bite back a moan as he teases me open and my body yields fairly easily to his little touch.

“You’re so soft,” he whispers in my ear, his lips feathering over me, his warm breath making me shiver.

I lean my weight fully onto the wall so I can relax into his attention, losing myself in how good this always is. His other hand is stroking over my shoulder, and down along my spine, and Johnny comes right next to me.

He watches me for a little while, soft fluttering touches along my chest from him, and when I start to whimper because the nerves are lighting up through my core, he comes to find my mouth.

His tongue searches me gently as Dutch touches me in that place that drives me crazy, as the weights come to pull me down into the deep bliss that’s starting inside.

It would be so easy to fall right into this heaven of Johnny’s lips on mine, Dutch’s fingers in me, but I want to get this done; I need this to happen or I might die.

“Please…” I say, to Johnny, to both of them.

Johnny looks at Dutch, and then Dutch is moving away, and Johnny takes his place. He’s there, running his hands up my body from behind.

I’m breathing shaky breaths at the tiles, until Dutch ducks under my arm and he’s in front of me.

He’s smiling, brushing over my lips, dragging my bottom lip softly with his thumb while Johnny’s hand comes to fit over my ass. I can feel him holding me there, parting me, and I move my hips back in case that will help, heart racing.

He strokes himself down along me, and I pant because holy _fuck;_ he’s touching himself onto me there. There’s pounding in my ears, behind my eyes, my head just made of light and dizziness, and then there’s a pulling feeling on my skin, an intrusion into my body.

I keen a moan at Dutch because it feels good to have so much tightness, overcrowding, even though I can’t see how this can possibly work. He holds my face in both hands and tilts his head while he watches me.

“Is it too much?” comes Johnny’s voice.

“No,” I say helplessly. “For the love of god, keep going…”

Johnny breathes out hard and slides in a little further, and Dutch starts to kiss me.

I’m lost, forever lost, because Johnny is actually inside me.

His mouth comes onto my shoulder, kissing me as he moves again, and I think this could be the end of my life, and I’m okay with that.

He waits there, softly kissing my skin. I reach behind me to touch him, pull him closer, tell him I’m ready, all while Dutch opens me to a deep kiss that blunts my senses. Johnny pulls away and slides inside again, and his groan makes me throb hard against Dutch, and my body is just lighting up all over.

Nothing hurts; it feels _magnificent_ , and I know that’s because they’ve taken me through it so slowly, made me ready for it.

I moan desperately, because I need Johnny to know how much he must keep going right now, and not stop until we both come, and possibly die, or me at least, but I guess we’ll see about that part.

My body is primed to be sensitive there already, and I think that must be why what he’s doing feels as good or even better than when Dutch was touching me. It _is_ better, because I have them each side of me, skin on skin, mouths on me, hands on me, and mine on them.

The eroticism of Johnny’s body pushing mine forward each time, the way I feel him thrust his hips, is washing away all other thoughts.

Dutch’s gentle hand finds my erection and catches me inside warmth, and it sets me on the final climb I need.

I’ve lost all control over things, and I’m hoping their bodies will hold me up, because having this all happen together is more than mine can do.

Johnny’s arm comes around me and hugs me tight to him and locks his body against mine, and his moan is a fragment I can’t separate from my own. I start into my release like a warm flood is around me. I tremble, and whimper, and Dutch takes it from me, holds me, while everything blurs together and my mind departs.

Nothing can be this good, it makes no sense.

*

“This is the best day of my life.”

The words leave me before I can consider whether to say them, even though they’re absolutely true.

We’re lying in my bed, the three of us. Dutch is on the other side of Johnny, on his back, one leg still tangled between Johnny’s.

“Getting laid can be like that,” says Johnny’s sleepy, smug voice in between us.

He ghosts his fingers over my forearm in an absent stroke, touching me when we aren’t about to do anything. Just because he wants to.

I roll over closer to him, onto my stomach, and prop myself up to look down at his face. There’s a little smirk. Slowly, I think Johnny will get more used what we’re doing, what we’ve decided. Me too, although it’s not easy: it’s new, it’s _unbelievable,_ and my whole chest just feels hot and light and out of balance that it’s happening anytime I look at them or touch them. I wouldn’t be surprised if that goes for quite a while.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Do I?”

I kiss him lightly on his shoulder, feel how his breath becomes irregular when I stay close.

“Yes, you _do_ ,” I insist.

The smirk grows wider, and I love the way he’s looking at me without the uncertainty, without the way he used to stop when he knew it was happening, without any roadblocks he’s throwing up for himself.

He says, “You don’t think that was fucking incredible?”

I notice the way Dutch is just listening to us, smiling at me.

I think maybe that’s how this is going to be, but I’m not sure. Sometimes it’s all three of us, intensely joined, deep in our moment. But sometimes there’s a moment we need with each other, and the other person isn’t in it. And it feels okay. It feels _good._ I know how good it feels for me when I see Dutch with Johnny, how happy it has made me right from the start, even back when I felt like they had something I wasn’t in. Even _then_ , I wanted it for them.

And I can see Dutch is like that in this moment, for me with Johnny. It’s coming so naturally to us to be okay about that, it’s scary, but maybe that part was always going to be easy, for us three.

“I guess it was pretty good,” I allow Johnny. “Still not what I meant.”

“I know that.”

I lay my cheek on his chest so I’m resting there, and he smiles down at me. It’s so fucking _right_ , I don’t know how I’m going to go about normal life now, without this being all I can think about.

“What do you think people will say about us?” I ask them both.

Dutch yawns. “I don’t give a shit, but I’m pretty sure they’ll get used to it eventually.”

Johnny smiles, reaches up by Dutch’s head, and Dutch lifts up so that Johnny can hold him, have him lying there inside his arm.

“I have to get used to it, too,” Johnny says. “I haven’t been with anyone for a while, and now suddenly there’s two of you.”

I grin at Dutch and his fingers find me, brushing over my lip.

“What do you think, Bobby? He gonna be able to handle the both of us?”

“He’s gonna have to learn.”

“Real quick,” Dutch agrees.

“Shut up,” Johnny says.

Dutch laughs softly, and Johnny gives him a demanding look, raising his eyebrows. Dutch meets it without fear. I get the impression they’d like to get carried away; it just feels like it, somehow.

I get up off the bed and look around for my trunks, because I am _hungry_ , and people seem to think I can go all day without eating lunch.

It’s been a big day, and I _can’t._

I hear a startled laugh from Dutch, and a low sound from Johnny, and when I turn around, semi-dressed, they’re lying differently, and Johnny has his mouth buried deep under Dutch’s neck. They’re not covered at all by my sheets, their gorgeous bodies on display for me and each other. Dutch is getting some fairly deliberate attention, not just at his neck.

“I’m going to get us some food,” I inform them.

“Yes,” Dutch says, and I can’t really tell if it’s for me or for Johnny. “You need a… you need a hand?”

I laugh, feeling heat on the back of my neck. I rub it away.

“I’ll be fine. Back soon.”

But Dutch extracts himself from Johnny and gets up on the bed, grabbing my hand on my way past and pulling me to him.

“What?” I ask.

“Just this.”

He pulls me down close enough to kiss me, and I smile and go with it. I feel his hand in mine still, and I like it.

When he’s done enough to make me think about forgetting the food, and maybe just lying down with him, wondering _how many_ times we can possibly go, or at least so I can wrap myself around him, he pulls away to look up at me.

He tilts his head, and his dark eyes fills my heart.

I don’t really know what to say.

I have no _idea_ : we’re going to have to work out how we all like to talk to each other. I doubt it will be with words of undying devotion and romance, or not often, but that is something like I feel like saying right now. I don’t.

“See you soon,” I whisper, and he lets go of my hand.

Johnny’s gotten up during that. He looks impatient. He smirks at me and pulls Dutch back by the shoulders, forcing him to lie down. Dutch smiles at him in delight as Johnny climbs over him, in between his legs.

“No need to be so pushy,” Dutch says.

“I thought I told you to shut up?”

I turn away, my heart soaring, and head out to the stairs. Behind me, I hear Dutch’s laugh, a protest, cut off mid-stream.


End file.
